


Love is the Country of Fools

by thelittleone (beautybedamned)



Category: Kamen Rider OOO
Genre: 10 Genre Fic Challenge, F/M, Future Fic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-26
Updated: 2011-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautybedamned/pseuds/thelittleone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for the 10 Genre Fic Meme hosted on my LJ (http://mlina.livejournal.com/631000.html); Prompt: Post-Canon. Title nicked from 31_days (http://31-days.livejournal.com/2752572.html).</p></blockquote>





	Love is the Country of Fools

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emothy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emothy/gifts).



[1]

Hina tells Eiji about the dreams two nights after they cross paths in Egypt.

It is the evening right before his trip to the Amazon as part of a new program launched by UNESCO. They sit on opposite ends of the couch in her hotel room; the window is open and the warm breeze from outside passes through the room.

She doesn't know why she's never told him about this before, especially since they've all talked about Ankh at one time or another: she and her brother, she and Chiyoko, she and Date-san and Gotou-kun and even Satonaka-san. Most importantly, she and Eiji for all that they are tied together by that one year that changed both their lives indefinitely.

"It's alright, Hina-chan," Eiji tells her as he reaches over to twine their fingers together. Of all of them, he is the one person Hina knows who will understand best the riot of emotions that fester in her.

"It's alright," Eiji tells her, the firelight reflecting in his kind eyes. "I know. I miss him too. It's okay."

But is it? She wants to ask, even if she knows she cannot. Is it okay to dream that she wakes to find Ankh watching her from the window of her room. Ankh, with his face -- the twin of her elder brother's but also so different from her brother's.

Ankh, with those sad eyes that creep inside of her and fist around her heart. Ankh, who she hated so fiercely for his selfishness and his greed, his single-minded focus on a desire that rendered everything and everyone else as obstacles in the way. Ankh, who she discovered it was possible to love far too late.

Is it okay to dream that he comes back from wherever Greeeds who are not Greeeds go when they pass away? To wake and remember the lingering pressure of lips against her own; to work on new projects and discover that the shadows of his essence find their way into the clothes that complete themselves in her hands.

She knows after all, with an eerie certainty, that the feathers in the accessories are dyed the exact shade of red of Ankh's own feathers; that the jewels that adorn the pair of gloves praised in last year's New York Fashion Week mimic the memory of each groove that made up Ankh's hand.

Is it okay to wake, heart beating hard in her chest as she remembers the warm of Ankh's flesh on her own, the thrum of his pulse beneath her tongue, the feel of his slender fingers ghosting over her skin.

Is it okay at all to be haunted this way and to wish... to wish...

 

[2]

She wanders Prague in the winter.

The city is beautiful in its mix of old and new, the snow outside her window bringing back memories of her girlhood.

Once, when her family was still whole, they had all taken a trip up north where the snows fell thicker than they did back home. She and her brother had lingered well after dark to play hide and seek while an owl had watched them from the dark of the trees.

She had been so convinced it was watching them, that it wished them both ill and harm, huge as it was for a bird. She'd hidden behind her brother, the both of them very still as it swooped down to curl its claws around some unsuspecting creature in the drifts.

 _It is impossible to forget_ , her mother had laughed afterwards over dinner, _that kind of sensation. The sense that you are being watched. It's like a whisper telling you: 'Look here. No, not there. Here.'_

Curled up in the corner of her room in the inn, Hina wraps her arms around herself and watches the embers flicker in the dying fire. She is homesick, that's all. She hasn't been properly home in almost three years. She hadn't expected the Fashion world to be so demanding. She isn't complaining though, just... it gets lonely.

It's only natural, she tells herself, that chancing upon Eiji in a street bazaar has brought out all these feelings. This desire for familiar places and faces. She repeats it to herself as she curls up in bed: How it is that intense longing for home and friends and all the warmth that comes with being close enough to touch them all that is making her hallucinate.

She did not glimpse Ankh's reflection in a display case at the Museum of Decorative Arts, she whispers over and over. But when she closes her eyes, the memory repeats: the jewels on display are beautiful; against the cloth setting they are both hard and cold, but they call to her, prompt inspiration for her next piece. She is staring down at a set of rubies lying in black velvet when the outline of a figure perched somewhere above spins her around, her lips parted and ready to utter his name.

 

[3]

She asks him about that name of his as they lie in a pool of silk sheets. His fingers fan out her dark hair, his eyes focused on smoothing out each strand against the red.

She had never told anyone how fascinated she was to watch that face of his. People hide behind masks; Ankh never did. Oh, he would nag and butt heads with you, but he never hid. Everything he felt and wanted was always written on his face.

The look on his face right now, it makes her heart hitch.

"Eternal life," she whispers, the words shaky as Ankh turns his attention to her, gaze falling to her mouth while his hand settles on her hip. "That's what it means, right? Your name."

She notes the way the familiar wry look crosses his features before he mutters, "So what?"

"I read about it." But she can't remember where. "I think that's why I've started dreaming about you like this."

 _Because out of everyone, you were larger than life, than reality, than anything we knew from the rational world and still you were the only one who died._

"Ahhh," he whispers against her mouth, teeth catching her lower lip as his hand cups her cheek. "So it's not because you miss me? Not even a little? Come now, Hina, even just a little?"

Each kiss deeper and more demanding than the last. She knows she needs it, wants him -- what was it Kougami-san said? Desire is a driving force for life?

There is more, Hina knows. But when she closes her eyes it is morning and the sunlight glistens mad-white in the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 10 Genre Fic Meme hosted on my LJ (http://mlina.livejournal.com/631000.html); Prompt: Post-Canon. Title nicked from 31_days (http://31-days.livejournal.com/2752572.html).


End file.
